


It Doesn't Make Sense Right Now

by gallopingmelancholia



Series: Give Your Reasons, Say It's Not Her Fault [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, But my title sounds better so sorry Robyn, Fluff, I literally just now months later realized the title doesn't match the lyrics to the song whoops, M/M, No Conflict, Pining, This scary movie was good but it could also make a great romcom, animation AU, no beta we die like men, there's barely even a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallopingmelancholia/pseuds/gallopingmelancholia
Summary: [tweet draft] i met a boy today siri play ive just seen a face by john lennon[tweet draft] i know it was the beatles that was the joke its funny bc no one likes the beatles[tweet draft] polo shirts are kinda sexy i know im surprised too[tweet draft] *squidward voice* oh nooo, he’s hot[tweet draft] thinkin about that scene in frasier where niles first meets daphne for no reason just bc remember that scene don’t u want to die when u think about it???**Richie Tozier is an up-and-coming comedian who uses Twitter too much and who gets cast in an animated movie that Eddie Kaspbrak is working on. (Richie's POV from And Then You Let Her Down Easy.)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Give Your Reasons, Say It's Not Her Fault [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867852
Comments: 7
Kudos: 102





	It Doesn't Make Sense Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> Let the record show that I'm generally against writing sequels to my work but I just couldn't leave well enough alone.

Richie answers the phone. “Danny DeVito, what can I do for you?”

“I hate it when you call me that,” Dan Hagarty, his agent, replies.

“I’m sorry, Danny boy,” (Irish accent this time) “but you told me to stop doing Forrest Gump, my options are limited.”

“I do hate the Forrest Gump voice.”

Richie does the voice anyway. “Lieutenan—“

“STOP.”

Richie stifles a laugh. “Fine, Daniel in the lion’s den, are you calling about a gig?”

“I might have something really last minute. Adrian—“

“Yo, Adrian!” Richie says in his Sylvester Stallone voice, which he also does every time Dan mentions his boyfriend. Dan plows on.

“—told me last night that he’s been asked to find a replacement for Henry Bowers on the Mike Hanlon animated feature.”

“The which feature?”

“The guy who won the Oscar for the short about the 1920s gangster shootout but it was actually kids having a food fight, kind of a _Calvin and Hobbes_ vibe.”

“Oh shit, I loved that one!”

“I know, that’s why I brought it up. I played your V.O. demo reel for him and he ran it by Mike and they want you to read for them.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Tomorrow at the Derry Animation Studio, I’ll text you the address and am emailing you the sides right now. 9:00. Do you want me to call you to wake you up so you’re not late?”

“No, Mom, I can wake up by myself.”

“Hey, no judgment here, I know stand-up can fuck with your sleep schedule.” Richie smiles. Dan is honestly too good for this world. He puts up with Richie being deliberately irritating and doesn’t even ask for a bigger cut.

“Why’s this opening up? Did Bowers die?”

“Bowers is getting fired for sexual assault.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, something inappropriate with one of the crew, the details are kind of hush-hush.”

 _Yikes. I hope it wasn’t violent._ “Is she OK?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna press charges, HR’s backing her up.”

”Wow. Good for her.”

“And good for us. This is going to be a big hit, I can feel it. You’re gonna do great.”

“OK how confident should I be? Is it in the bag?”

“Richie, nothing is ever in the bag. Do your best and don’t fuck it up, that’s all you can do. It’s a kid’s movie, so go easy on the swearing.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“As long as you don’t sexually assault the staff, you should be good.”

“OK define ‘sexually assault.’”

There’s a long pause, and Richie knows the joke didn’t land. _Oops._ “I know you’re kidding even though it doesn’t sound like it, but c’mon, man, don’t. Nothing blue. Retire the bro character for the day.”

 _It’s not a character, it’s a disguise,_ Richie thinks. “Gotcha. Schoolboy innocence, coming right up.”

“Just. Be yourself. But, like, less so than normal.”

“Ouch, dude, Jesus.”

“That came out way meaner than I meant it too, whoops. Sorry. If you think of something inappropriate to say just reel it in, OK? Professionalism.”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can. Check your email.”

“Thanks, Dan.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t fuck it up.”

“Love you too,” Richie says, and hangs up.

He’s so nervous that he can’t sleep well that night. He’s practiced, so much so that he’s practically memorized the lines Dan sent. He wishes Dan had sent more drawings of the character, so he could get a better sense of what to do with him, how he should sound.

Richie’s not really someone you’d expect to be in a children’s film. His stage humor is topical, not too political, and not as raunchy as you’d think, given how many times he says “fuck.” But he says “fuck” an awful lot. He’s kind of going for an Eddie Izzard without the lipstick vibe, even though he knows that the lipstick and unashamed confidence Eddie wears it with is essential to the Eddie Izzard vibe. And on the internet, he likes to do absurdist stuff, and he likes to keep his real self vague and unknowable for the sake of the joke. He wouldn’t use his real name at all if he could help it. Every day he kicks himself for not coming up with the Dril persona on Twitter. He’d steal Rob Delaney’s deeply pathetic MAGA cuckold bit, if he could get away with it, but he knows he can’t.

Auditions make him much more nervous than performing comedy onstage does. He’s been playing bigger and bigger clubs and getting more laughs, to the point where he doesn’t have to take side jobs anymore, he can scratch out a living solely from his comedy, and he’s so, so proud of himself for that, and he should be satisfied. Maybe he should just quit the film career idea, it’s not like he’s that great at acting. Not everyone can be a Steve Martin.

Whenever Richie has this thought, he has trained himself to think about Larry the Cable Guy. If a hack like Larry the Cable Guy can have a film career, so can Richie. Richie can git ‘r done too.

Richie picks up his phone and tweets.

@trashmouth fuck larry the cable guy

@trashmouth tow mater prolly has a confederate flag in his garage why aren’t we talking about this

@trashmouth did the civil war exist in the cars universe? did lincoln get assassinated in disney pixar’s cars universe? was he a normal car n then john wilkes booth turned him into a convertible? lots to think about

The thread gets a few likes and retweets. _There._ Now that he’s tweeted dumb non-sequiturs that will make three people laugh, he can fall asleep. _Still got it._

The audition goes way better than Richie expected. Mike is easygoing and gives Richie his full attention. He’s got a great smile, which Richie was able to see because he fucking nailed the lines. Directors usually try not to laugh during auditions so as not to give anyone false hope, Richie knows this, Dan has told him this, so he doesn’t take it personally when Mike doesn’t so much as chuckle, but Richie can read a room, and he knows he nailed it.

“Great job, man,” Mike says, shaking his hand. “We’ll be in touch. Dan, send Adrian Richie’s schedule so we can work him in, and we’ll draw something up.”

“Does that mean I got it?” Richie whispers to Dan, who shushes him.

“Absolutely, first thing when I get back to the office, Mike,” Dan says.

Richie shakes Adrian’s hand, and Dan gives Adrian a kiss on the cheek. It causes a twinge of anxiety in Richie’s stomach. _Does Mike know they’re dating?_ Public displays of affection between men have always made Richie feel awkward and guilty. He pushes his glasses up his nose nervously.

“See you at home,” Adrian says to Dan, and Dan and Richie leave the room.

“Did I fuck it up?” Richie asks.

“You were perfect,” Dan says.

“I thought so but I wasn’t sure,” Richie says.

“I’m serious, you were so good. You’re gonna be a star after this.”

Richie does an aw-shucks routine back to the parking lot, but apparently Dan was right, because he not only got the part, Mike says he’s going to have the screenwriter, Bill, add an extra scene or two for him and let him improvise in the booth, since Dan told him that Richie came to Hollywood through the improv route.

Richie doesn’t really have anyone to share the news with. His parents are dead, and he’s an only child, and none of his comedy friends are, like, actual friends. He is incredibly, achingly single (that’s what a lot of his jokes are about, actually). He’s not allowed to tell the internet yet. So he just pours a glass of bourbon and drinks it in the bathtub as a way of celebrating this step forward.

Oh, maybe he’ll play one of his favorite Twitter games.

@trashmouth drunk in the bathtub playlist suggestions go

His followers start sending suggestions. “Hurt” by Johnny Cash is one of the first responses. “Party for One” by Carly Rae Jepsen is another. Two very different kinds of drunkenness there. Which one will prevail tonight? He adds them to a new Spotify playlist. “Rubber Ducky” from _Sesame Street_ is the most popular contribution.

@trashmouth im blocking everyone who said splish splash i was taking a bath

Dan spends the next day negotiating the contract, and Richie goes into the studio to sign it the day after that. He likes to have signed hard copies instead of scanning them and sending them over email, or, god forbid, faxing them. Mike, Dan, and Adrian invite Richie out to lunch to celebrate afterwards. Dan and Adrian head back to their respective offices, but Richie doesn’t have anything else to do, so he and Mike head back to the studio and shoot the breeze for a bit. The film is progressing smoothly. Mike shows Richie some of the art of Roger, the character he'll be voicing, that’s already finished, and a few clips of movement studies so he can get a sense of the physicality of the character. Roger ambles along like he’s not sure how to walk and is at risk of tripping over his own feet at all times. He’s loose, dumb, and full of heart. Richie gets all of that clearly through his gait and the dopey smile on his face. It’s gonna be easy building a voice around Roger. Half the character building work has already been done for him.

“So did you design him?” Richie asks.

“I set forth some preliminary ideas, but we’ve got a lady who is fantastic about character design, she gave him the look. And each character gets their own animator, for consistency’s sake, so there’ll be continuity of movement. Oh, Roger’s guy is here in the studio, you can meet him, if you want.”

Richie has no objection. He likes meeting new people. Mike excuses himself, and Richie sits down and fucks around on his phone for a second, and when he looks up, Mike is back with a guy who’s so cute Richie feels his fight-or-flight response kick in.

“Eddie, this is Richie Tozier. Richie, this is Eddie Kafjoepwrohak, one of our best animators.” (Richie has always been terrible with names.)

Eddie Something is about five inches shorter than Richie. He’s got dark hair and he’s thin but solid and wiry, like he works out but isn’t an obsessive showoff about it, and his eyebrows are kind of heavy, like he frowns a lot. But he smiles when he sees Richie, and his eyes are large and brown and kind, and Richie wants to disappear so he doesn’t embarrass himself. He should’ve shaved before coming in, or at least combed his hair. If Richie looked in the mirror right now he’d see Animal from the Muppets looking back at him, he just knows it.

Richie stands and desperately tries to play it cool while shaking Eddie’s hand. Nice wrist. Strong grip. Probably from all the drawing. _He probably gives good handjobs._

_What the fuck, Richie, that was wildly inappropriate._

_But it’s true._

He wants to scream.

_Focus, bitch._

“Fuck that guy,” Eddie says about Henry Bowers, and Richie is kind of startled. He thought this was going to be a no-swearing zone, given what Dan had said. The boring polo shirt and children’s movie job had tricked him into thinking Eddie would be prim and nerdy. If Eddie was also foulmouthed, maybe Richie would fit in better than he thought.

“Richie here is taking over as the voice of Roger. And we’re expanding his role.”

“Cool. Congrats, man,” Eddie says, smiling again. Richie’s never felt more proud of himself.

“Thanks, I’m really excited. I’ve never done animation before. And I really loved your short, Mike.”

Mike knows this, Richie’s said it like four times. He just doesn’t know what else to say.

“Thanks, Richie. I caught one of your sets awhile back, and I’m so glad we were able to snatch you up.” Mike says. Richie tries not to blush. Mike hadn’t said he’d seen Richie’s work before. _Oh god, what show was he at? I hope not the Trocadero, that set is filthy._

Eddie’s lips are thin, and his eyebrows are thick, and they both betray just a hint of apprehension when Mike outlines the additional work Eddie’s going to have to do. Richie catches himself feeling slightly defensive. _Deal with it, bitch, I’m gonna be amazing._

“Bill’s working on the extra pages, he’ll shoot them to you both as soon as possible, we’ll get the new stuff storyboarded, Richie will record sometime next week, and we’ll go from there,” Mike says.

“Right on, cool,” Eddie says, his frown going deeper.

He’s a bad liar and uses lame, outdated slang _._ Somehow, this is the cutest thing in the world _._ “Yeah, right on, radical,” Richie says, going for teasing but missing the mark and landing on dickish instead.

Mike and Eddie tell each other some news about a mutual acquaintance or former colleague or something, Richie’s not sure. He doesn’t pay attention, he just studies Eddie. Eddie looks like he has to remind himself to roll his shoulders to relieve the tension in his back and neck a lot. Richie wonders if he needs a massage. He looks like he does. Richie wants to give him a massage. Eddie leaves, giving Richie a small wave goodbye.

“He was nice,” Richie says, willing himself not to watch Eddie walk away.

“Yeah, he’s fantastic. Really great guy. You and Roger are in good hands.”

_Don’t you fucking think about it, Richard Tozier. Stop thinking about handjobs._

Mike calls in a few other people, including the sound team, to introduce them to Richie, if they’ve got a minute. There’s a curly-haired guy named Stan who seems fun. Richie loses track of who everyone is almost immediately. He’ll recognize them on sight, of course, but will probably have to ask for names again.

But when he gets home, he still vividly remembers Eddie.

[tweet draft] i met a boy today siri play ive just seen a face by john lennon

[tweet draft] i know it was the beatles that was the joke its funny bc no one likes the beatles

[tweet draft] polo shirts are kinda sexy i know im surprised too

[tweet draft] *squidward voice* oh nooo, he’s hot

[tweet draft] thinkin about that scene in frasier where niles first meets daphne for no reason just bc remember that scene don’t u want to die when u think about it???

He obviously does not send these tweets. No one must know. 

A press release goes out, and congratulations start pouring in, and Richie spends the rest of the evening basking in the attention, alone in his room.

He spends the next week going over the script and takes a day to record another podcast with a “friend” he doesn’t actually like but can banter with pretty well. It gets a decent response. He goes to a children’s bookstore and gets a few of Bill Denbrough’s books that are the basis for this movie and reads some of those. They’re like R.L. Stine, a little bit. He looks up _The Attic Room_ on IMDb because he likes to see his credits added to new pages when he books new gigs and looks at the cast and crew but doesn’t see anyone named Eddie or Edward or Edmund listed.

 _You’re probably not even going to see him,_ he tells himself the night before he’s scheduled to record his lines. _Animators don’t work with the actors. So chill out, dumbass._

Richie has always told himself that he’ll confront the being gay thing when he likes someone enough to pursue them, and he won’t come out publicly until he’s in a strong, steady relationship. That makes sense to him. The idea of being out and everyone knowing and _speculating_ about his sex life is horrifying. He doesn’t talk about his own sex life in his comedy, not ever. Sex is an abstract thing to Stand-up Richie. He knows all about it, he’s even had it a few times, but the vantage point for any jokes or observations about sexual behavior, attraction, orientation, whatever, that’s from the outside. He watches other people do weird shit and reports back, like, _Hey, you’ll never guess what new fetish I learned about. For this joke, I have this fetish, but only for this joke._ If he does dating material, it’s about how he’s single and pathetic and so lonely he’s five minutes away from buying one of those pillows with an arm on it that makes it feel like you're spooning someone. Sex jokes are about masturbation or strictly conjecture. He doesn’t do gay material, so he’s not going to come out, because then everyone will start expecting him to do jokes about ass-fucking. He can’t do jokes about ass-fucking. It’s too personal.

But he does see Eddie the next day. Eddie pokes his head into the studio to say hi and Richie’s heartbeat speeds up enough that it’s probably picked up by the microphone. And then, in a development that’s equal parts _oh god_ and _thank god_ , Eddie stays to watch. Richie has a habit of singling out one person in the audience and calibrating his performance so that one person will laugh. If they laugh, Richie’s doing a good job. Eddie is now that person, and he laughs often enough that Richie starts to memorize his smile. Richie tosses out a few ad-libs, and Mike and some of the sound guys voice their approval. But just when he’s feeling pretty clever, Eddie pipes up.

“Hey, Nathan Lane, stop with the improv. Freestyle at home.”

 _OK, first of all, Nathan Lane is hilarious and a Broadway legend, so that’s not an insult._ “Mike, get him out of here, he’s interfering with my process,” Richie says in a Norma Desmond voice. He’s not worried because Mike specifically said he wanted him to improvise. It’s what Richie’s good at. If Eddie doesn’t like it, he can go kick rocks.

Still, the idea that someone out there doesn’t like him has never sat well with Richie. It is now his mission to win Eddie over.

“You’re not Robin Williams in _Aladdin._ No one’s as good as Robin Williams in _Aladdin._ Give it up,” Eddie chimes in again.

He’s right, Robin Williams was a genius and Richie isn’t, but it still kind of stings. _Conceal, don’t feel, Richie._ “You sound like my mom, Jesus. I thought this was the one place I wouldn’t get heckled but I guess—“

“You were wrong!” Eddie’s face is lit up with good humor. He looks relaxed and happy. Maybe he doesn’t need winning over, maybe they’re already on the same side.

“Mike, Eddie’s creating a hostile work environment,” Richie says in a very whiny voice.

“It’s a dog-eat-dog world out here in children’s media, Richie, you’ve got to toughen up,” Mike jokes.

“I’m just not cut out for this,” Richie says, fake crying. (He has mastered fake crying, if he does say so himself.)

“Looks like I’m going to have to separate you two,” Mike jumps in, continuing the gag. “Eddie, go back to your desk. We’re counting on you.”

“Yeah, get back to woik,” Richie says, imitating Bugs Bunny imitating Edward G. Robinson. Eddie leaves, and Richie wishes he didn’t.

“Don’t listen to him, you’re doing great,” Mike reassures him.

“Oh I know,” Richie says. “He just has bad taste.”

“Exactly,” Mike says.

The rest of the day goes very well. Richie hasn’t felt this confident in his work in a long time. Even if the beautiful animator guy doesn’t like his jokes. He at least liked the way Richie said other people’s jokes, and that’s good enough. And he was smiling when he left the room. He must have been having fun, despite Richie’s liberties with the script.

Besides, everyone else gave him great feedback, and he dwells on that rather than on how much he wants to impress Eddie. Except he doesn’t. Richie unfortunately has never had an ounce of chill. It doesn’t matter how inconvenient it would be to have an embarrassingly huge crush on a (male, oh god) colleague at this time in his life: his dumb brain decided to do it, and his dumb brain can’t let him leave it alone.

Richie made an image of Roger his profile picture on Twitter, which was dumb, because now every time he opens the app to spew out some nonsense, he thinks about Eddie and how cute he is and how great it felt to make him laugh. He can't stop remembering Eddie's dimples. 

Last time was a fluke, he’s probably not going to see Eddie again. But he still puts on one of his favorite shirts and combs his hair before going in to Derry to record this time. He’s concentrating on listening to Mike and Bill and annotating his script so much that he doesn’t even notice that Eddie’s there in the studio until they break for lunch and Mike invites him to go to Hal’s, one of his favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants, with them. Stan is coming along too, which is an odd relief. It might’ve felt too much like a double date with only four people.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to,” Eddie says. “Just let me go get my wallet, it’s at my desk.”

“Can I come with?” Richie blurts out. Curiosity gets the better of him. “I’ve never seen an animation office. Are you going where the magic happens?”

“Uh, I guess? Come on, I’ll give you a tour,” Eddie says.

Richie doesn't know what he was expecting. It’s just a normal office. The desks are bigger and angled to be easier to draw on, and there’s not as much paper or filing cabinets. It’s small, too. Everyone there looks so _normal,_ like they don’t spend their days trying to impress strangers. It makes him feel extra out of place, but a more powerful longing to fit in.

Eddie lied about giving him a tour. They don’t stop long enough to talk to anyone, not even a pair of people Eddie says he went to school with and whom he’s clearly best friends with. (Ben and Bev. Those names are fairly easy to remember. She blows Eddie a kiss, he pretends to dodge it, it’s a cute little bit they’ve done several times before, Richie can tell. She’s got gorgeous red hair, a wide smile and incredible cheekbones. Ben looks like he could benchpress a small European car.) They just walk to the middle of the office to get to Eddie’s desk, then back the way they came. Whole thing takes maybe five minutes.

“Did it live up to your expectations?” Eddie asks. “Magic enough for you?”

Richie’s first instinct is to go for the sex joke: _It was good for me, babe, was it good for you? Did you come?_ Etc. But no, he can’t, because he is being extra careful not to be offensive, considering what got him the job in the first place. So he goes with his second idea.

“It was thrilling, man, look, I’m trembling,” and Richie brings up his arm and flops his hand around exaggeratedly. Eddie snorts, amused.

_Good call._

The restaurant is a cute little place, pretty basic fare. Eddie asks the server a ton of questions about the menu and ends up getting a Caesar salad with dressing on the side, “no tomatoes or onions or avocado or chard or chickpeas or whatever weird shit, excuse me, sorry, people try to reinvent salads with,” and Richie is fascinated by how polite but demanding Eddie is that his food be exactly right. Richie will eat pretty much anything. Surprises don’t even necessarily have to be good, they just have to be interesting. Richie hasn’t had Greek food in a while, so he gets paidakia. Lamb chops. It’s pretty good. He’s had worse.

And, incidentally, Richie was wrong earlier. The inclusion of Stan does not make it seem less like a date, at least in its awkward moments. In the awkward moments, it’s the three college friends all laughing together about something and then Richie and Eddie staring at each other trying to find something to say until they can jump in with the others again. Eddie seems comfortable, though, so maybe the awkwardness is only in Richie’s head. It would feel less like a date if Eddie weren’t so…appealing? Surprising? Adorable? Richie doesn’t know what it is, but he likes watching Eddie linger over the menu, hold his hand over his mouth when he wants to talk and chew at the same time, squeeze the lemon wedge into his glass of water and stir it with the straw and then sip from the straw carefully because the glass has fingerprints on it but he doesn’t want to be rude and send it back for a cleaner one. All of which is clearly very normal to Eddie, but is fastidious in a way Richie has never been in his life. Eddie has never been an adherent to the Five Second Rule, Richie knows that much.

At one point, Stan says something about this guy who makes YouTube videos deconstructing Satanic and Illuminati images in old children’s media and video games, and the big debate on the internet is if they’re satire or not (“Poe’s Law,” Richie supplies), and Eddie says, “Yeah, I’ve seen those on Twitter,” and that sets off a bell in Richie’s head. _Note to self: Look up Eddie on Twitter._ What he says out loud, though, is, “OK, but have you seen the one about Street Fighter?”

“Of course!” Stan says. “That one’s classic!”

“No, I never played that game,” Eddie says.

_Bingo. I’m in._

Richie and Stan talk about the video and laugh about some of its more absurd claims and completely fail to convey to the others how funny it is. It goes only slightly better than the time he tried to explain the brilliance of @horse_ebooks to someone who was not an Internet Person. Bill has no fucking idea what they’re talking about. He has a Facebook page that someone else manages for him and even that he isn’t sure about. He does fall down through Wikipedia rabbitholes, though, he will definitely admit that.

“Hm, same. ADHD brain,” Richie says, pointing to himself.

“You? Never would have guessed,” Stan says drily, and Richie laughs.

“It’s called joie-de-vivre, Stanley the Manly,” Richie replies, “and it’s endearing.”

“My mom would’ve called you a ‘motor mouth,’” Eddie says.

_Do not make a motorboat joke about Eddie’s mom, you fucking idiot._

_No potty mouth jokes, either._

_And don’t stare at Eddie’s mouth._

“You talk fast, too,” Richie points out.

“It’s not the speed so much as the abrupt jumps from subject to subject,” Stan says. “And the volume.”

Richie gets excited about stuff, sue him.

“I’m not insulting you or anything,” Stan says, worried that he might have offended Richie. “It’s fun trying to keep up.”

“It’s what makes you so funny,” Mike says. “Never know what’s coming next.”

“Thank you, but I’m self-conscious now. Let’s talk about someone else. Let’s analyze Bill’s speech patterns. All slow-like. What’s that about?”

“Speech therapy. I used to have a really bad stutter as a kid,” Bill says calmly.

“OK, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and kill myself,” Richie says, mortified. “Don’t wait up.”

“And stick us with your part of the check? Classy,” Bill says.

“Yeah man, wait until you get home first,” Stan says.

“Guys, that’s not funny,” Eddie says quietly. “My mom committed suicide.”

Everyone freezes.

“In the bathtub. I found the body.”

“Rea—really?” Richie says, blood draining from his face. _How old was he? That poor kid. You blew it, Tozier, you absolute walnut. You idiot._

“No, but the look on your faces was just priceless—“ Eddie says, bursting into laughter.

“Jesus Christ,” Mike says, guffawing.

“She actually died from cancer,” Eddie continues, still laughing. Richie doesn’t know if he’s joking or not. He looks to Stan helplessly.

“This conversation has taken a few unexpected turns, I’ve gotta say,” Stan says.

“This isn’t even the weirdest business lunch I’ve had this week,” Bill says, shrugging. “Kids’ book authors are a bunch of sick freaks.”

“Yeah, I heard Dr. Seuss was into hardcore bondage,” Richie says, before thinking better of it, and Bill laughs so hard he cries.

[tweet draft] which kids authors do u think had the weirdest kinks? i think rosemary wells is into piss play

[tweet draft] did margaret wise brown eat ass do u think

[tweet draft] where the wild things are is a metaphor for sex parties

[tweet draft] the very hungry caterpillar is hungry for cum oh god im so alone

 _What was that thing I was going to do?_ Richie asks himself later that evening, for the billionth time in his life. _Oh, right. Slide into Eddie’s DMs._

And he would, if he could only _find_ Eddie. He still has no idea what his last name is. K-A sound-something-ak. He’s not on IMDb Pro, anyway. Someone will add him later, Richie guesses. If this were a normal film set he’d be on a call sheet and Richie could find out how to contact him that way, but it’s not, it’s animation. Richie is also a very bad name guesser. Maybe he should give up and ask Mike? He’s a second away from texting Mike with a plausibly heterosexual excuse for wanting to talk to Eddie when he realizes he can check the followers/following on the Derry Animation Studio Twitter account. There he is. _Jackpot._

 _Oh god_ , he’s already following Richie. _Time to panic_.

His username isn’t familiar, so maybe he’s just kind of passive, doesn’t interact with Richie’s posts a lot. Best case scenario, honestly. He’s got to go back and look at his profile and see what off-putting and stupid shit he’s said recently.

In any case, before he can chicken out, he says hi and sends Eddie the link to the YouTube video he and Stan tried and failed to explain at lunch.

Eddie doesn’t respond right away, so Richie looks over his own feed and decides he can’t delete any of it, it’s comedy gold, when he receives a response.

Eddie: I think it’s sincere, I think he really does believe in the Illuminati

_What the fuck?_

Richie: wait u actually watched it

Eddie: uh yeah?

Richie: but u didn’t even play streetfighter

Eddie: you sent the thing, I watched the thing so we could talk about the thing

Eddie: do people not do this very basic form of courtesy where you’re from?

No, Richie can legitimately say, they do not. Not when the videos are over ten minutes long and we’ve known each other less than two hours. Richie has had dudes suck his dick and then not watch anything he’s sent them. Even stuff he made himself and starred in, back when he spent more time on YouTube.

Richie: im from maine, they don’t do anything but eat lobster n do hate crimes there.

That’s kind of unfair to Maine. There haven’t been any hate crimes for a full eight months, last he checked.

Over the next 24 hours, Richie learns the following about Eddie from Twitter:

  * Eddie’s from New York
  * Eddie went to school with Ben and Bev, who are probably aliens pretending to be humans because they’re beautiful and nice and good at everything
  * Eddie likes _Dumb and Dumber_
  * Eddie does not post a lot on Twitter, he mostly retweets stuff
  * Eddie is good at drawing, because that is what he does post
  * Eddie went to the Pride parade in LA this past June because he posted a photo from the sidelines
  * Richie can’t tell if Eddie went for himself or to support his gay friends
  * In any case, Eddie is braver than Richie because Richie’s always wanted to go but never did because he was too scared
  * If Eddie is not gay then Richie is super duper fucked
  * If Eddie is gay then Richie is super duper fucked anyway



Richie has had a heck of a lot of crushes over the years. He’s pined after guys before. He’s even pined after straight guys before. It’s not fun. He doesn’t like doing it. He’d avoid it, if possible. But. If Eddie were to reciprocate his feelings and want to date him, Richie will probably screw it up because he’s never been in a real, actual relationship and he doesn’t know how to be a good boyfriend. He’s spent way too long single. He only lasts three dates with any given person, and he’s learned to be satisfied with that. Every roommate he’s ever had has hated him by the end of it, which is why it’s just easier to live alone.

And anyway, he’s getting ahead of himself. This could all end up just being another passing infatuation and he’ll get over it once he embarrasses himself enough that Eddie stops pretending to laugh at his jokes.

Over the next week, Richie learns the following from talking to Eddie:

  * Ben was going to be an architect and he dragged Eddie and Bev all over the city making them take pictures of him in front of his favorite buildings
  * Eddie watched a lot of anime as a kid
  * Eddie’s favorite food is mashed potatoes
  * Eddie’s go-to order is chicken tenders and fries
  * His drink is vodka cran
  * He doesn’t respond well to being called a “basic bitch”
  * Eddie likes to go running for exercise
  * Eddie had asthma as a kid
  * Eddie works late at least once a week, maybe more
  * Eddie has not seen _The Godfather_
  * Eddie has also not seen _You’ve Got Mail_ , in which they discuss why men are obsessed with _The Godfather_
  * Eddie has not seen _Dog Day Afternoon_
  * Or _The Deer Hunter_
  * Or _The Conversation_
  * He doesn’t know who John Cazale is
  * He hasn’t seen most dude movies and no horror
  * He doesn’t like Quentin Tarantino and thinks he steals from Asian movies too much
  * The list of things that Eddie hates is surprisingly long
  * At the top of this list is “germs” and the general concept of dirt
  * He watched the first _Star Wars_ in college but fell asleep before it got to the good part and he never went back and tried again
  * He likes _Wayne’s World, Zoolander,_ and _Anchorman,_ thank fucking Christ
  * He did not get the reference to Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s on First” routine
  * He does not know who Buster Keaton is
  * He desperately needs a pop culture education
  * Richie’s going to introduce him to a lot of good comedy
  * Eddie responds quickly to Richie’s messages instead of forgetting about them like Richie does to everyone but Eddie’s texts
  * Richie doesn’t know what flirting looks like anymore but
  * He thinks Eddie might be flirting with him
  * Richie wants to see Eddie again
  * Richie wants to kiss Eddie
  * A lot
  * Among other things
  * Many other things
  * Richie can’t kiss Eddie until he figures out if Eddie will kiss him back



Greta over in Sound Editing sends Richie a video of some of the rejected outtakes of his most recent recording session for _The Attic Room._ Most of them came from the half of the day after they went to lunch and Richie wanted to keep Mike and Bill laughing with ever more risqué jokes.

Dan doesn’t think the video is as funny as Richie does.

“Did I or did I not say to be on your best behavior?” he asks.

“Yeah, but—“ _I haven’t propositioned anyone yet, what more do you want from me?_

“And you wasted all of it on a kid’s movie when it could’ve gone into your Netflix special.”

“I don’t have—what?”

“You’ve got a lunch meeting with the Netflix people in three weeks.”

Richie takes the phone away from his ear and squints suspiciously at it. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Of course not. I don’t fuck around about Netflix money.”

What kind of jackpot did Richie hit recently, and how does he keep this lucky streak going?

“OK but which set do they want me to do?”

“Some of the old stuff, but I’d write some new material if I were you. I’ll get you into some smaller clubs so you can work out the kinks, if you want.”

Richie exhales on a long breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “Do you like fruit baskets? Or do you like muffin baskets better? I’m gonna get you a giant muffin basket, dude, thank you so much.”

“You make it easy, kid.”

Richie waits to get off the phone before crying. _Made it, Ma! Top of the world!_

_Eddie would not know what that’s from._

_I should watch that movie with Eddie. I bet he’d like James Cagney. James Cagney was hot._

@trashmouth we’re gonna build a playlist that best embodies the concept of this gif [gif of man making it rain cash on his cat]

Rihanna’s “Bitch Better Have My Money” is the most popular response. These people are so predictable.

For the next two weeks, Richie works on new bits nonstop. He spends less time fucking around on the internet and more time in comedy clubs, judging other comics and soaking up the audience reactions to his own stuff. The day of the meeting, he throws up and has to brush his teeth again before making it out the door.

It’s a terrifying hour, but he thinks he pulls it off. Dan’s going to get great terms for him, he promises.

“Relax, Rich, you got it. They loved you.”

“If this happens it’s because you bribed them with cookies.”

“Hey, I only break these bad boys out for my favorite clients,” Dan says. The cookies in question are enormous. Richie’s surprised there are any left over in the box, given how many he wolfed down nervously, and how greedy the Netflix producers were.

“Can I have the rest?” Richie says.

“You’re gonna go into a sugar coma,” Dan says, “but sure.”

There are only pistachio, oatmeal raisin ( _blech_ ), and peanut butter left. Richie takes them and heads home, only to realize that he’s pretty close to Derry. He should stop by and see—

The gang. He should see the gang. His friends. The platonic friends that he has at Derry.

Stan will get pistachio. Eddie might be allergic to peanut butter, he’s apparently allergic to everything, so that one will go to Mike. That leaves oatmeal raisin for Eddie. Richie pauses for a second, but realizes that Eddie’s a fuckin’ weirdo who probably loves oatmeal raisin.

Stan can’t talk for long but he thanks Richie for the cookie and they talk about Patty, Stan’s wife, who is a terrible baker, but he loves her anyway. Richie is also bad at baking. It’s nice to know some people don’t think that’s a dealbreaker.

Mike is also appreciative of the cookie. He’s from Columbus, Ohio, and talks about these things called buckeyes for a good five minutes, as if Ohioans invented the concept of pairing peanut butter and chocolate. It’s very endearing. But he’s got to get back to work too.

“Is that for you?” Mike asks, gesturing to the last cookie.

“Oh, uh, no. I was gonna give it to Eddie. Unless Bill’s here.”

“Bill’s not here.”

“I figured he’d be off somewhere doing something depraved.”

Mike laughs. “You and Eddie are friends, now? He mentioned that he’s talked to you since you last came in.”

“Uh. Yeah. We chat a little. Did you know he’s never seen _The Godfather_?” _What did he say? Does he like me? WHAT DO YOU KNOW, HANLON?_

“No, I didn’t. That makes sense, though,” Mike says. “He works too much. He’s here late all the time now.”

“Yeah, I get the impression that he’s kind of obsessive.” (A thing they have in common, wouldn't you know.)

“He needs a break.”

“Don’t we all,” Richie says blandly.

Mike studies him for a second. Richie wonders if Mike’s trying to tell him something that he’s not getting. _Does he want me to drag Eddie out of the office? Like, how? In what way? In a friend way? In a date way?_ But Mike lets it go.

“I’m gonna make some coffee to enjoy this cookie with, you get where you're going.” He ushers Richie out of his office on his way to the breakroom.

Richie really was not expecting the visceral reaction he has from seeing Eddie bent carefully over his drawing tablet on his desk, concentrating so hard his tongue sticks out of the side of his mouth. His hoodie sleeves are rolled up so his forearms are exposed. Richie’s mouth goes dry.

_Status report: Super duper fucked._

Suddenly, he must be as obnoxious as possible. That is how he’ll deal with these feelings.

He takes out his phone and DMs Eddie, hearing a vibration in Eddie’s desk drawer. It jolts Eddie out of his zone, and for a second he looks annoyed, like he doesn’t want to answer it at all. But he smiles a little when he opens it and puts the phone back away. He slowly turns around in his chair, and Richie throws the cookie at him. He barely catches it.

“Smooth, you never told me you were an athlete,” Richie says.

“Fuck off,” Eddie says easily. He looks happy to see Richie. It makes Richie’s stomach lurch.

Richie was right: Eddie is a fuckin’ weirdo who loves oatmeal raisin.

Ben passes by and says hello, and compliments Richie about three times in the span of ten seconds, completely sincerely. The compliment on Richie’s outfit’s color scheme makes Richie squirm uncomfortably and try to offer a compliment back.

“Thanks. You have a nice…everything.”

Ben looks down modestly. As if those abs and biceps just magically appeared on his body one day. “And he’s smart too,” Eddie says, laughing. At Richie, no doubt.

“You were almost an architect, right?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Eddie told me. He talks about you and Bev a lot.”

"I know, he’s obsessed with us, but the restraining orders are never enforced by the courts,” Ben says.

“I’m not a violent stalker, just a creepy one,” Eddie says, hiding his mouth behind his hand because he’s talking through a mouthful of cookie. Because he has good table manners, a thing Richie knows about him. 

“Yeah, it’s only time to start worrying when we get dead squirrels in our mailbox,” Ben says.

“Dark!” Richie says, impressed. _Hot, smart, morbid. The whole package._ And yet, he feels nothing when he looks at Ben. He wants Ben to like him because he wants Eddie to like him, and if Eddie’s friends like him, maybe Eddie will like him.

“I knew you’d like that. By the way, Eddie, I need to talk to you later, don’t let me forget.”

“About what?” Eddie asks, as if he’s just heard Bernard Herrmann violins. (Eddie has not seen _Psycho,_ but Richie is positive he’d recognize the music.) “Just tell me, dude, it’s fine.”

“No, you’re visiting, I don’t want to interrupt.” Ben’s already regretting bringing it up. Richie is very intrigued.

“My anxiety just skyrocketed. Am I fired? Is everyone OK? Is it about Bev?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows furrowed adorably.

“You literally just got a raise, and Bev is fine. It’s about Myra, she somehow got my number.”

_Who the fuck is Myra?_

“Oh lord. What did she say?”

“She wanted me to verify that you’ve been working late.”

_She can’t be in payroll or accounting, she’d already have had Ben’s number. Who else would be concerned about Eddie working late?_

Eddie looks weirdly embarrassed and ashamed and like he’s got an instant headache. He hides his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to her.”

“Who’s Myra?” Richie asks, dying to know.

“My girlfriend,” Eddie says.

Now Richie’s the one who hears the Herrmann violins. This is a disappointing development in more ways than he can parse right now. He tries to school his face into something other than “devastated” while Eddie promises to talk to this Myra ( _bitch_ ) and apologizes to Ben profusely. Richie needs to escape as quickly as possible.

“I should go,” he says.

“No, dude, stay, don’t make me go back to work yet,” Eddie says. Richie wants to cry.

“It’s that kind of attitude I like to see around here,” Mike says, passing by, cup of coffee in hand.

“Thanks, boss!” Eddie chirps, and it’s too much for Richie. _Retreat. Now._

“No, I don’t want to distract you. You’re going to make me a star, after all,” Richie says, gesturing to the drawings of Roger that Eddie has pinned to the wall behind his desk, under what looks like a note from Bev.

“Is that what this cookie’s all about?” Eddie asks.

“Guilty,” Richie says, heartsick.

“Buzzfeed says your star is rising without help from me.”

 _You’re reading Buzzfeed articles about me? WHY?_ “Buzzfeed is full of shit. It was good to see you, though. Catch you later.”

“Bring milk next time!” Eddie shouts after him.

Richie makes it to the first traffic light outside of the parking lot before the tears hit.

The idiotic thing is that he really thought he’d been doing OK tempering his expectations about Eddie. He completely failed at that, turns out. Turns out his hopes had been way, way higher than they should have been.

[tweet draft] [gif of Bridget Jones crying]

[tweet draft] [gif of Amélie Poulain from _Amélie_ dissolving into tears and leaving a puddle on the ground]

[tweet draft] hey good news im gonna be on netflix and also im gay and stupid and gonna die alone

@trashmouth best dance in ur underwear in the kitchen songs i already know who mika is so dont say him

Eddie replies with “Call Your Girlfriend” by Robyn, and Richie wants to cry again. _Yeah, bitch, why don’t you go call your girlfriend? Fuck you._

He does love that song, though. That’s a gay yearning song if he’s ever heard one, so Eddie tweeting it like it’s just some normal dance anthem is a little salt in the wound.

[tweet draft] [Mayhem from those insurance commercials saying “I’m an emotionally compromised teenage girl”]

The dance playlist doesn’t really help lift his mood. He’s still sad and pretty sure he’s the dumbest person alive.

He holds off from talking to Eddie less than three days. That’s the longest he can hold back. It's not fair to ghost him. It’s not Eddie’s fault that Richie’s feelings were hurt by Eddie being straight and taken.

 _OK, Richie. Time to be a big boy and be friends with your new friend and_ NOT _feel sorry for yourself for being put in the friendzone because the friendzone is a patriarchal bullshit concept and you’re better than that._

The next Friday Eddie mentions that he’s working late at the office again. Richie decides on an impulse to visit. Richie is very bad at resisting impulses.

He brings Eddie a Coke. Drinking Coke with friends is a normal thing to do, right? The commercials want him to think so.

Maybe by the time he showers and shaves, Eddie will be gone.

Eddie’s still there. The office is dark and deserted and the lighting is hella romantic. _This is horseshit._

“You said you were working late, I thought I’d provide caffeine,” Richie says, tripping over his words.

“Thanks.”

“You know, like friends do. This is how you make friends in your 30s.”

“Are we officially friends?” Eddie asks.

“Of course we are,” Richie replies, kind of offended. “You’ve laughed at my jokes, I expect to see you at my funeral.”

“If it’s your funeral how will you see me there?”

Richie smiles. “That’s another one of those jokes I mentioned.”

Eddie has also not seen _A Bit of Fry and Laurie_ and looks at him quizzically when Richie does the “soupy twists” toast from the show with their Coke cans. He should have known by now that Eddie hasn’t seen anything good. He adds it to the long mental list of things he’s going to have to introduce Eddie to.

He gets Eddie to show him how the animation process works, wanting to see more of the way Roger walks and moves. The sequence Eddie’s been working on is even more impressive than the samples Mike had shown him were.

“Fucking witchcraft,” Richie says.

 _Imagine being that good at anything_.

“Oh, wait, I can give you something too.”

_A boner? A neurotic complex? A broken heart?_

What he ends up giving Richie is chocolate-covered gummy bears. Richie has never considered dipping them in chocolate before. _Something new! Fun!_ His first impression is that they’re nothing special, but he finds that he can’t stop eating them. No wonder Ben tried to hide them away in his cheat drawer. Eddie and his friends are apparently obsessed with them. They impressed Eddie’s college girlfriend enough into sleeping with him, apparently, because Eddie describes buying them for her as a romantic gesture and losing his virginity. Reaffirming that he is indeed straight, thanks for the reminder, Universe. Richie casually asks if Eddie uses gummy bears as a seduction tool ( _it’s working_ ) but Eddie says they can be platonic, reaffirming yet again that he’s not interested in Richie. Even if they are sitting awfully close together on Ben’s desk, so close it’s kinda hard to breathe.

“OK, just one more, then I’ve got to put them back. If Ben finds out I’ve been digging around in his candy drawer I don’t get to be best man at his and Bev’s wedding.”

“Reasonable. Punishment’s got to fit the crime,” Richie says, even though he thinks the fuss Eddie’s making over the bears is a bit silly. It’s kinda nice that he’s sharing them with Richie, though.

“So this is a secret between you, me, and the bears,” Eddie says.

Richie clinks the bears together as if they’re champagne glasses or the cans of Coke from earlier. “Soupy twists,” he says again.

“No, dude, you do this,” Eddie says, and taps the bears together and makes a kissing noise, as if they’re Barbies.

_I’m gonna fucking die._

“That was the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

_I’m gonna FUCKING die._

Eddie’s college girlfriend was right: the only rational response to that is trying to get into Eddie’s pants.

“So that’s drinks, a show, and dessert. What about dinner?” Richie asks. Eddie takes a long time mulling it over, long enough that Richie’s afraid he misstepped and made it sound too much like a date. “My treat?” _Goddammit, Rich, that makes it sound more like a date, not less._

“Where were you thinking?”

“Nothing special. There’s a Korean barbecue place I like kinda close to here.”

Eddie’s never had that. Richie isn’t surprised. But Eddie says yes. He saves his work and they leave. Richie checks to make sure that Eddie’s car is behind him the whole way there, as if Eddie is the kind of person to abandon Richie mid-evening. Of course he’s not. That’s why Richie likes him.

Eddie’s an animation snob, and Richie likes that too. The face he makes when Richie says he likes _Frozen_ is just…beautiful. Extremely disdainful. He threatens to walk out when Richie says he likes _Despicable Me._ God, he’s fun to annoy.

Eddie suggests that Richie watch something called _Steven Universe_ , which sounds complicated and weird but kinda good. Richie’s heart stops when Eddie says, ”Also it’s super queer. Like, the gayest show for kids I’ve ever seen.”

_Wait, what?_

_Does he know?_

_What?_

“I could’ve used a show like it when I was a kid. Would’ve helped me figure some shit out sooner.”

_What shit? Gay shit?_

_Myra?_

_Bi shit?_

_WHAT DOES IT MEAN?_

The server interrupts and Richie grabs onto the subject change like a life raft. He wheedles Eddie into trying something new: shrimp and calamari. It takes some coaxing. Eddie is a picky eater and seems against new experiences in general, but he’s willing to indulge Richie. That, and the candlelight, and the possibility of gay shit is fucking with Richie’s mind. He kind of thinks Eddie might be flirting with him. 

Eddie hasn’t seen _The Simpsons_ and _South Park_ because there’s something fucked up with his mom, and he’s never even seen _Spongebob_ , because his mom thought it would make him gay. The fact that he says it so casually makes Richie uncomfortable. Richie’s parents were very permissive, not at all controlling like Eddie’s mom seems to be, but they reacted very poorly to finding out Richie was gay. They didn’t throw him out, but Richie’s positive they thought about it.

Time to change the subject. He presents Eddie with the shrimp he’s been grilling. Eddie eats it reluctantly and thinks before saying that “it tastes like ocean.” But, apparently, not in a bad way.

The rest of the ( _not a date)_ evening goes well, they talk about the new gig Richie landed on Betty White’s show, and Richie doesn’t tell Eddie about Netflix, even though he’s dying to, because he knows Eddie will be excited for him, and his face will light up in that cute way it does. He picks up the check and lengthens the process of finishing his drink as much as possible. He doesn’t want to leave yet. He wants to keep looking at Eddie. He wants to press his knee against Eddie’s under the table.

Eddie takes the extra copy of the check and doodles something on the back of it. He hands it over. “For your scrapbook.”

It’s a little comic of the two of them sitting at dinner. It looks exactly like Richie and exactly like Eddie. He did it without even looking at Richie, as if capturing a likeness is the easiest thing in the world.

 _Imagine being that good at anything_ , Richie thinks again. _What kind of person just tosses off something like that, like it’s nothing?_ A different part of his brain says, _He’s joking about the scrapbook, but does he want me to remember tonight? Why? WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?_

“You ready to go?” Eddie asks.

 _Fuck no._ He needs to obsess over this adorable cartoon and this adorable man.

Then again, he needs to find this Myra lady and figure out how to get her to leave the country and never come back so Richie can have Eddie all to himself.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Richie says, putting the receipt into the breast pocket of his favorite shirt without wrinkling it. He’s gotta do it. He can’t just not do it. It’s as subtle as a falling anvil, but he’s gotta. “Wait, give me your phone.”

Eddie just unlocks it and hands it over, like he trusts Richie implicitly. Richie sends a message to his own phone (a candy emoji and a shrimp emoji, to continue on with the evening’s competing themes) so that Eddie has his number.

“Now you know how to reach me if you want to really branch out and try something truly exotic, like, say, sushi. I hear they have this thing called pasta in Italy.”

“I’m not that picky of an eater. My palate isn’t that boring.”

“Mmhmm. You seem really into seasoning.”

“Fuck you.”

The first text Richie sends Eddie, which he thinks of at the first red light, is “chocolate covered shrimp, y/n?” Eddie sends back a few puking emojis.

[tweet draft] u know that episode of frasier where frasier literally ends up sharing a bed w a woman and still cant tell if it’s a date or not? thats a documentary based on my life

[tweet draft] i would definitely fuck david hyde pierce js

[tweet draft] a thing happened i need to go talk to some bourbon abt this

What Richie does is pour himself a triple bourbon and draw a hot bath. He uses bubble bath, the good stuff.

_Now. Let’s think._

_Eddie._

_Gay?_

_Bi?_

OK, first things first, he needs to jerk off so he can concentrate.

He does it twice, thinking about if Eddie were in the tub with him the first time and comes within minutes. The second time, he settles on a fantasy about Eddie blowing him in some seedy club bathroom, sweat dripping down Richie’s face and neck, Eddie slurping him down, loving how he tastes. It’s not quite enough, so he switches to fingering his asshole and imagining Eddie’s doing it. Better, but it doesn’t quite do the job. Eddie riding his dick and sucking on his tongue, the tip of Eddie’s cock smearing moisture along Richie’s stomach, his hands in Richie’s hair, both of them panting into each other’s mouths, going faster and harder, the headboard smacking against the wall.

Richie comes so hard it makes his head spin.

_Now. Let’s think._

_Eddie._

_Gay????_

_Bi?????_

What evidence does he have? He mentally reviews every interaction he’s had with Eddie, every word, every glance. He scrutinizes Eddie’s online presence, including an Instagram account he rarely updates. There’s a photo of Ben and Bev sandwiching Eddie between them, kissing him on each cheek, taken years ago at a Pride festival. That doesn’t help.

 _You could just ask him_ , a little voice says.

 _I would rather die_ , he answers.

Maybe it’s the bourbon, but he thinks Eddie might be into dudes. Another measure of bourbon later, and Richie thinks he might even be into him. His reasoning is that he really wants Eddie to be into him and he deserves nice things, doesn’t he?

The water is cold by the time he decides he should probably go to bed.

He spends all day, literally all day, watching _Steven Universe._ It is the absolute gayest show for kids Richie has ever seen. Poor, poor Pearl, pining after Rose Quartz. It hits Richie like a punch in the nads.

@trashmouth songs that get u in ur feelings go go go

@ekaspbrak @trashmouth Call your girlfriend. Robyn. It’s a banger but also kinda sad?

@trashmouth @ekaspbrak when ur right ur right

Eddie texts him a lot that weekend. More than Richie expected.

[tweet draft] @trashmouth dimples dimples dimples dimples dimples dimples 

On Sunday he can’t take it anymore and goes out to the candy store and drops a bag of chocolate-covered gummy bears and a Minion Funko Pop doll on Eddie’s desk for him to find when he gets to the office on Monday.

Eddie’s exasperated reaction is even better than he hoped for. Around lunchtime, Richie texts again. 

Richie: so im all caught up on steven universe and now im crying in the bathtub

Eddie: Understandable. Bubbles?

 _Do you want photographic proof?_ Richie thinks hysterically. He’s never sent a dick pic before, but he understands the impulse now. If Eddie asks for a picture he’s going to go fucking feral.

Richie: how did u know that was my stripper name

Eddie: Intuition

Eddie: If that’s what happens at your shows I should go to one

Richie: backstage passes r waitin for u

Eddie: Bev says hi btw

Richie: no offense but shes not invited

Eddie doesn’t ask for bathtub pics. It’s a shame. Richie’s been working out lately and looks pretty good. That night, Eddie adds the bi pride colors to his Twitter profile. If that’s not a message intended specifically for Richie…

[tweet draft] im gonna scream

[tweet draft] help me

[tweet draft] help meeeeee

And then, two days later:

@ekaspbrak Gonna pull a Tozier and request songs for a break-up playlist. I like the angry ones the best

@trashmouth @ekaspbrak call ur gf, robyn

@ekaspbrak @trashmouth If you think that’s not already on there you’re delusional

[tweet draft] help meeeeeeeeeeeeee

[tweet draft] [gif of Spongebob hyperventilating]

[tweet draft] [gif of man impersonating Doakes from Dexter with construction paper hearts over his eyes saying HEART EYES, MOTHERFUCKER]

Richie: i need some advice

Dan: Hit me.

Richie: so theres this boy

Dan: Stop right there

Dan: Is he married?

Richie: no

Dan: Is he underage?

Richie: ew no

Dan: Then go for it

Dan: If you want me to put it in career terms it’ll give you some new material because you’ve been beating the “I’m so single, woe is me” dead horse for a while, but honestly, I just want you to be happy.

Richie: im not ready to joke about it yet

Richie: but u dont think it would hurt my career

Richie: coming out

Dan: No

Dan: I’d never try to book you with homophobes anyway

Richie: ur the best agent ever

Dan: Come out when you’re ready, but tell him

Richie: he just broke up w someone how long do i wait

Dan: A week or two

Richie: ugh man

Richie: ok i can do that

Eddie texts Richie that he’s done with _The Attic Room_ two weeks later. Richie takes Eddie out to his favorite Indian restaurant to celebrate. Eddie is throwing out serious “fuck me” vibes, and Richie chickens out. Doesn’t kiss him, doesn’t touch him at all. Doesn’t even eye-fuck him.

He fucking hates himself for it.

The next day he gets out of the house and walks around a mall, because that was the only place to go when he was growing up in goddamn Maine and it gives him a weird sort of comfort to go there and think gay thoughts like he's 14 years old again.

At the wrap party. That’s when he’ll do it. He’ll get him alone somehow and just go for it.

The only problem is that Eddie gets _hammered_ at the wrap party. Richie can’t do this while Eddie’s drunk.

Eddie’s not making it easy, though. First of all, he’s fucking adorable, absolutely precious. He draws another cartoon for Richie on a napkin, to go with the ones from their first two ( _not_ dates) dinners. And he’s clingy. He’s hanging off Richie like a sloth. He’s sleepy and pliable and soft and talking about how much he likes Richie.

Richie regrets volunteering to ride in the Uber with Eddie to make sure he gets home OK because Eddie falls asleep on Richie’s shoulder and Richie has to pretend it’s not the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

And Richie’s not doing himself any favors, because he escorts Eddie up to his apartment. In the elevator, Eddie essentially tries to climb inside Richie’s shirt with him. He’s got a hand at the small of Richie’s back, on his bare skin. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, that’s how out of it he is. Richie’s going to lose his mind.

“This is torture,” he whispers to himself.

What’s also torture is that Eddie seems to think Richie’s going to help him get changed into his pajamas. _If you weren’t drunk right now I’d rip those pants off, oh my god,_ he thinks.

Eddie flops into bed. “Stay with me,” he says.

_Fuck no. Not even on the couch. I can’t trust myself, and I want you to remember this._

Richie texts Bev that Eddie got home safe, and then he finds Eddie some basic hangover needs, which is easy because his apartment is very, very organized. He switches out Eddie’s phone case with one he bought at the mall, which has been in his back pocket this whole time, and which is covered in Minions, the inside joke from their first ( _not date_ ) dinner that Richie’s just not going to let go. He hides the old case in Eddie’s bedside drawer, under a box of condoms and bottle of lube.

He kisses Eddie on the forehead before he leaves because he can’t just not do that, he’s only human.

He gets back in the Uber and exhales shakily. He adds Eddie’s address to the contact profile in his phone. He sets Eddie’s picture as one of the ratbirds from _Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs_ , which Eddie animated and which are now inextricably linked with Eddie in his mind.

Sleep does not come easily.

He’s exhausted when he wakes up, so he makes coffee and drinks the whole pot, and then he’s wired. He’s got to see Eddie. They’re both free for the next few weeks, until Eddie finds a new job, this is the perfect time.

A new text from Eddie, surprisingly early: thanks for last night. Sorry I was such a mess

Richie: u were adorable. like a sleepy little puppy

Eddie: I’m not that small.

Richie: like a sleepy grizzly bear then

Eddie: Bev says thanks too

Richie: tell her it was my pleasure

Eddie: thanks for the new phone case. Love those minions.

Richie: i know u do. theyre like the dumb madagascar penguins but twinkie shaped and less funny

Eddie: where’s my old case?

Richie: don’t worry about it

Richie: r u hungover

Eddie: no

Eddie: it’s just that everything hurts

Eddie: and I’m dying

Richie: yea me 2

Richie: u want to get brunch

Eddie: I want to die

( _Same._ )

Richie: meet me at lou’s in an hour, ill make a reservation

Eddie: I’m not going out in public, meet me here, we’ll order in

Richie: nah ill cook u somethin

Eddie: you cook?

Richie: im an actor i have an illustrious career in food preparation

Richie: any food allergies i need to be aware of

Richie: or strong aversions

Richie: ive never had it doesnt count

Eddie: I’ve eaten enough olives to know I hate olives. Otherwise no

Richie: ill be there soon, let me shower n bring stuff over. hangover recovery special a la tozier comin up

Richie has never showered as quickly or grocery shopped as frantically as he does now. What on earth can he feed Eddie that they’ll both like?

Huevos rancheros, a brunch classic, is what he decides on.

He packs his laptop and phone charger (presumptuous, he knows) and drives to Eddie’s, and, miracle of miracles, finds parking outside the building. It’s an omen.

Eddie is visibly hungover but looks really glad to see Richie. Finally, Richie has a chance to fill in Eddie’s comedy blind spots and do sappy domestic shit he’s fantasized about doing at the same time. He plays some of his favorite bits for Eddie, who laughs at all the right parts. Eddie falls asleep halfway through _When Harry Met Sally_ , curled up on the couch with his feet in Richie’s lap.

Has Richie ever been this happy? No. No he has not.

He pauses the video and eases himself down behind Eddie, hugging him to his chest. Falling asleep is easy this time.

A sudden movement brings Richie back to himself far too soon. He didn’t even take his glasses off, that’s how quickly he was out. They’re barely hanging on to his face.

“Why are you laughing at me?” he croaks at Eddie.

“You know that scene in _Austin Powers_ where Austin wakes up from being frozen? You--”

 _This motherfucker. I make him breakfast and he disrespects me like this?_ “You better not finish that sentence.”

“You look like that but like, hot, with good teeth.”

Richie is fucking smitten. “That ended better than I thought it would but I’m still offended.”

Eddie flips in his arms and settles back in, his head on Richie’s chest. There’s no way he doesn’t hear how hard Richie’s heart is pounding.

“You think I’m hot?” Richie asks.

“Most definitely,” Eddie says. “I think you’re everything.”

_I will die. Dead and gone._

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he chokes out.

“Thanks. Did Harry get together with Sally?”

“Yeah. He finally got the courage to confess his feelings.”

“Good for him, I knew he had it in him.”

 _Well, that’s a pretty good opening. Now or never._ “Hey,” he says.

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Richie, you can do anything in the world to me,” Eddie answers.

This is the most important kiss in Richie’s life, and he _nails_ it. It’s perfect. Eddie’s perfect. He mirrors Richie’s movements, attentive and patient but still so ready to give it everything he’s got. Richie has to stop to take a second to breathe, to grapple with the fact that this is finally happening and it’s better than he could have dreamed of.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers.

“Good?” Richie asks.

“Spectacular. Do it again.”

Richie does. Eddie doesn’t even wait for him to lean all the way down before he reaches his face up, trying to get back at Richie’s mouth. He lets go when Richie gently bites on Eddie’s lip, moaning just the tiniest amount. “God, you’re wonderful,” he says.

“I’m crazy about you,” Richie finally admits.

Eddie traces Richie’s lips with his fingers, so Richie sucks on them. “ _Shit,_ ” Eddie whispers. He almost attacks Richie’s mouth.

Unfortunately, reality rears its ugly, disgusting, cockblocking head, and Richie has to pull away. “I love where this is going and hate to ruin everything, but I have to pee.”

“Do it in my mouth,” Eddie says.

_Um. WHAT? I’ve misjudged the fuck out of this situation._

“I’m 100% fucking with you, I would never ever forgive you. I just wanted to see the look on your face.”

That might’ve been the funniest thing anyone has ever done to Richie, he can’t even be mad. That emotional whiplash was beautifully orchestrated by Eddie. He’s using it in one of his sets, no matter what Eddie says.

“Thank god, I was like, Fuck, that escalated quickly, I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“That will never be on the table. And nothing with knives. I don’t do knives. But anything else, you tell me if and when you’re ready and we’ll try it, and if we don’t like it, we’ll try something else. I’m all in.”

Just when he thinks he knows something about Eddie, Eddie goes and surprises him again. Mr. No New Experiences Ever, I Will Sue You If You Make Me Eat Hardboiled Eggs is being so open and generous with him that Richie doesn’t even know how to respond.

What should they even try first? (Roleplay is out, apparently. Because Eddie likes Richie so much that Richie doesn’t have to try to be someone else. Richie doesn’t deserve this man.)

The first thing they’re gonna do is eat ice cream and stay awake through a whole movie. ( _Bringing Up Baby_. It's imperative Eddie knows who Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn are.)

Afterwards they make out a bit more, then eat dinner, then make out a lot more, and Richie decides that he’s going to let Eddie guide him through whatever sex he wants first. He’s the one to move it to the bedroom, and from there on out, Eddie calls the shots.

Eddie’s pretty fucking good at calling the shots. Shots that go, “Another finger, I’m ready,” “a little more lube, there you go, perfect,” “ungh, god, right there, holy shit,” “harder. Harder. That’s more like it, keep going,” “kiss me, Richie, fuck, you’re amazing, fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Let’s never leave bed again,” Richie says, panting, sometime later.

“No, that’ll never work,” Eddie says.

“Why not?”

“Because I like to fuck in the shower.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Eddie rolls on top and gives him a kiss. And keeps kissing him. “What about you? Where else do you want it?”

“Kitchen counter,” Richie says. “We’ll sanitize it first. And after.”

“And the kitchen table.”

“My bathtub.”

“With bubbles?”

“Absolutely.”

“And, mmm, where else?”

“Up against a wall.”

“Balcony.”

“You have a balcony?”

“No, do you?”

“No. God, that’s good, don’t stop. Whose balcony?”

“I dunno. My next place, I’ll have to get a balcony there.”

“God. Um. I’m running out of ideas. Botanical gardens. Hollywood Walk of Fame. All the touristy spots.”

“Stop making me laugh, you want me to laugh with your dick in my mouth?”

“I mean, yeah. That’s—fucking hell--that’s the dream.”

“Mmmm.”

“Do we have to be in the shower the next time I come? Because I’m not gonna make it there, you’re—“

“Nnnff ghhheaad.”

They make it to the shower the next time.

Richie wakes to find Eddie gone. At least he’s still in Eddie’s bed so he knows it’s not the best dream he’s ever had, but the best night he’s ever had. He gets dressed and goes out to join Eddie in the kitchen.

“Want coffee?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Oh, I was gonna give you some sugar.”

“My Cheerios are fine without i—“ Richie interrupts him by kissing him. “I can’t believe this shit works on me. Embarrassing,” Eddie says, smiling widely when they break apart.

Richie can't believe it either. “Where are the coffee mugs?”

“Left-hand cabinet. The coffeemaker takes forever, you’ve got plenty of time. Here, sit down.” He pulls out a chair for Richie. “Hey, I made you something,” Eddie says. He turns his laptop to face Richie and presses play on some video.

_Wait._

“That’s me,” he says. “That’s my face.”

“Uh yeah dude, I know. It’s a good face.”

That’s his face synced up perfectly to the audio of the highly inappropriate outtakes Richie recorded the first time they went out to eat. Eddie sat there and made him a goddamn video. He drew that. To go with stuff Richie made up. It doesn’t make sense.

“But you hate it when actors deviate from the script. That was one of the first things you ever said to me.”

“I hate it when they’re not good changes. That doesn’t apply to you.”

“I didn’t even think you’d listened to them.”

“Of course I did.” He says this like it’s the most natural thing in the world, that of course he likes hearing what Richie has to say.

“But you didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to.”

 _Get it together, Rich._ “How long did it take you to do this?” he asks.

“Uh, not that long. Just when I had some extra time, or didn’t want to look at Roger anymore. It was fun.”

 _Richie, you’re scaring him. Stop overthinking this._ But he can’t quite believe someone did a romantic gesture like this. For him. Just, spontaneously. This has never happened to him before. Making someone breakfast is one thing, this is…this is different.

“Why did you make me this?”

“Because I know how much you like hearing yourself talk.” _He’s not wrong._ “I mean, I just, I like surprising people and I like you, and I thought they were funny, and I thought you might like it.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” he says, and it feels inadequate. “I uh, I didn’t get you anything, I can’t make stuff—“

“That’s not why people give gifts, Richie,” Eddie says. “I’m not expecting anything from you. I just wanted to do it.”

“Thank you. I like it a lot. I like you a lot.” Richie gives Eddie another kiss, since it’s all he’s got right now. “Do you want to watch something?”

“Yes. Do you have anything else with Cary Grant?”

“Oh boy, do I.”

( _Notorious,_ since that’s the only one that makes his heart do anything close to what Eddie just made it do. Then _Roman Holiday_ , which isn’t Cary Grant but which is Peak Yearning.)

They get to the scene where Cary and Ingrid Bergman look in the wine cellar before Richie realizes that his phone is dead.

Eh. He’ll deal with it later.

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: Richie insists that Eddie watch the golden age of The Simpsons with him and when they're done, he shows Eddie the "Steamed Hams" scene and the YouTube memes that still regularly pop up about it. Eddie animates his own version of the scene and Richie couldn't be more delighted.


End file.
